


Stretch

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10342926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Lindir suggests Elrond should rest, but Elrond wants to go longer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He clenches his body and gasps, arching high and tossing back his head, feeling the rush and burn of his lord inside him. He clings tight and rocks forward, but Elrond hisses, “Lindir— _stop_ ,” and he sinks down again with a tortured whine. Even without his efforts, the fit is tight, but he always likes to milk it for all it’s worth.

He wants to milk Elrond. He desperately wants to squeeze and suck and use his body to give Elrond overwhelming pleasure, enough to drag him over the edge—there’s a council meeting tomorrow, one with other lords that Elrond will have to pay attention to. He’ll need to be at his best, and Lindir moans around his own steady panting, “Please, my lord; you must rest...”

Elrond’s hands stroke farther down Lindir’s thighs, twisting in to clutch and pinch, and Lindir’s voices peaks in another cry. Elrond always seems to know where he’s most sensitive, what little strokes will send him reeling. Lindir’s own hands are pressed against Elrond’s stomach, fingers spread, forbidden to do more. He wants to run them through Elrond’s silken hair and bend to share a kiss, but Lindir always strives to be obedient. Elrond pets the inside of his thighs and murmurs, “I will function well enough. Tonight, I wish to claim you until the sun rises anew.” Elrond punctuates his statement with a little thrust, hips rolling up, but it doesn’t jostle Lindir as much as he’d like—just enough to strangle another cry from him. Elrond does all the work, lying back in bed with Lindir perched upon his lap, and maintains a steady, maddening pace that had Lindir mindless hours ago. Under any normal circumstance, Lindir would be delighted to ride his lord so long. But with duties to fulfill tomorrow at first light...

Since entering Elrond’s service, Lindir has done nothing but _serve_ Elrond. It’s always been Lindir’s greatest desire, as long as he can remember. The fact that it’s evolved to _this_ still leaves him boneless with joy. He loves every second of their joining, every point of contact, every hitch of breath, the slick, wet sounds of Elrond’s lubricated cock inside him and the ripe smell of sheer _sex_. The warmth is overpowering; he’s shed all but his circlet. He burns everywhere he’s touched and still yearns for more. It’s so immensely difficult to be still, when everything he’s ever wanted is right beneath him, and with a languid moan, he finds himself losing control yet again—he bucks his hips forward—

Elrond catches them quickly, fingers digging tight into his flesh to still him, and Elrond growls in warning: “ _Lindir_.”

“I am sorry,” Lindir gasps, even though he’d do it again if he could. He _tries_ to obey his lord’s every command, and he truly _wants_ Elrond to claim him all night long, right into the morning, through another day—but his love for Elrond more than overrides his own pleasure. Lindir bites his lip, trying to hold back. He knows just how to please his lord. He could end this so easily. He knows everywhere that Elrond likes to be kissed, knows every way that Elrond likes to be licked, knows just how to clench and quiver and hum around his cock—

The mere thought of _Elrond_ , of how wildly, incredibly, unconditionally Lindir _adores him_ , is what ends it—Lindir’s cock twitches, and he can’t hold himself back in time. He moans some garbled form of Elrond’s name and bursts across Elrond’s chest, his channel tightening beyond his control. Even as the dizzying wave of his orgasm sweeps him away, he can feel Elrond’s engorged cock following, and then he’s being filled up with his lord’s seed, and ecstasy permeates his afterglow.

He slumps where he is, still sitting up to take what he’s given. Elrond pumps several last thrusts into him, pounding in release, until Lindir is full and there’s nothing left to give. Then Elrond seems to melt, letting out a ragged sigh.

Lindir whispers a soft, “Sorry,” and bites his bottom lip. Guilt seeps into him, but not enough to stifle the satisfaction. Elrond gives his hip a gentle pat. 

Then Elrond reaches for some of the chestnut hair that’s fallen over Lindir’s shoulder, and with a little tug, Lindir’s pulled down. He lifts off of Elrond, wincing as Elrond’s cock slips out of him, and lowers half onto Elrond’s sweat-slicked body. Elrond’s arm wraps around his back, and he’s given a soothing rub, then kissed at his temple. 

“I suppose I should thank you,” Elrond murmurs, though Lindir just shakes his head and nuzzles into Elrond’s shoulder. He would add that he didn’t mean to, that he simply loves Elrond too much to face their joining with the same control he faces everything else, but there seems no point now.

Instead, Lindir offers sleepily, “Should my duties permit it, when the meeting has finished, I will be right here, wearing nothing, and you may resume then, if you wish.”

Elrond lets out a quiet chuckle and pecks Lindir’s forehead. He hums, “Perhaps,” and then tilts Lindir’s chin up for a final, proper kiss before the night offers them dreams.


End file.
